


Changing the Weather

by hjea



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 04, Spring, Weather Blues, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjea/pseuds/hjea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pam is getting tired of this winter-thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 04/12/08.

It’s been a long winter.    
  
All Pam wants is a little sun to hit her when she steps outside, but in the dark of the car-ride to work that morning, they’re calling for another snowstorm to hit, and she looks over at Jim in the driver’s seat with something like despair on her face. He runs a gentle hand down her arm (wool coat, sweater, blouse) and doesn’t say anything, but he can’t change the weather for her, so she understands.    
  
They both have the same cold, not bad enough that it warrants taking a sick day, but so draining. When they get home each day, all they can do is crawl into bed, a jumbo box of kleenex sandwiched between them, and think about cooking dinner without either of them summoning the energy to do so. Pam would be getting sick of noodle soup if she could taste it.    
  
Jim makes her a sun out of a yellow sticky note, which is sweet, and she sticks it beside her monitor as a felt-tip-smile reminder of why she loves him. But then it starts to snow, and Michael comes out of his office crowing like an excited four-year-old about how he wishes it would snow everyday. The office glares at him and Pam slumps in her chair and imagines pushing Michael face-first into a snowbank. It only helps for a minute, though.    
  
The snow melts and freezes, melts and freezes, and Pam gazes longingly at the shorts in her closet. Michael is making her come in at seven to help him file the whole company’s contact information (“You should have done these last week.” “I know! I’m sorry, Pam! Pleeeeeeeeeease help me!”) and she’s hopping into one shoe as she looks at the bedside clock and swears. Her hand smoothes Jim’s hair on her way out the door and she whispers, “I’ll see you in a couple hours,” but he just turns his head in his pillow and coughs, deep and rattling. Pam’s own throat feels raw, and she supposes they’re getting worse, just in time for the weekend. She rolls her eyes, but really, the idea of spending a few days in bed, with nothing to do but hide from the world, appeals to her right now.    
  
Pam steps outside and wraps her arms around herself automatically as a barrier against the cold. She’s surprised at how light the sky is already, dusky blue and grey, but she’s so tired, she can’t really appreciate it. Her tea sloshes luke-warmly against the sides of the mug as she starts the car, and she tries to remember what daffodils look like as they bloom beside the road.    
  
When Jim comes in she’s still stapling reports together, but she sighs gratefully as he hands her the hot coffee he picked up for her. His fingers seek out a yellow jellybean and he pops it into his mouth with a smile.    
  
“Have you been outside yet?”    
  
Pam shakes her head. “Just driving here. Why, is it snowing again?”    
  
Jim opens his mouth, but she stops him with a raised hand. “No, if it is, I don’t want to know.”    
  
He shrugs and smiles again, grabs another jellybean (green – his favourite) and walks to his desk.    
  
It’s lunchtime, and she is getting up to walk to the break room, when Jim grabs her hand, and tugs her out into the hall. “Jim, what-“ she asks, but he just smiles again and pushes the down button on the elevator.   
  
“I want to show you something.” The elevator doors open and they step inside. “Close your eyes.”    
  
She does, because it’s Jim, and because she could use a silly distraction now, anyway. The doors ding open again, and he guides her out, his hands feeling warmer than they usually do ( _he is getting sicker_ , she thinks). They go around a corner, and Pam doesn’t disappoint him by telling him she knows exactly where they are, but when she hears him pushing open the outside doors, she does almost open her mouth to protest that neither of them have coats. Her hands, caught in Jim’s, want to move to protect herself from the blast of cold. It doesn’t come.    
  
They’re outside, and something like warm sun is kissing her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, as she raises her face to the sky. Jim squeezes her hands and lets go, sounding a little sheepish when he says “Surprise.”    
  
She opens her eyes and the sun is very bright, so bright, that she’s blinking and squinting up at him when she wraps her arms around him, because it’s like he brought her the spring after all.    
  
They spend their lunch sitting on some packing crates on the sun-warmed side of the building, Pam’s eyes closed and face uplifted again, to remind herself of what it’s like to be brought out into the sunlight. Jim steals one of her carrots and she looks down to grin at him. “That was a long winter, wasn’t it?”    
  
He nods. “Yeah. It was.” 


End file.
